Arthur "Art" Wolfswift Art stood alone in the Wasteland. Lost in thought and surrounded by the remnants of a long dead civilization, he was, for the first time in a long, long while, oblivious to the world around him. The skirmish didn't go as planned, but do they ever? Planning only goes so far, adaptation is a soldier's true strength. Only this time, Art couldn't adapt. A missed shot, a heated argument, unclear objectives, Art's dealt with all of these before, but this time he realized he had an option he never had before, he realized he could leave.
The group stood in shambles. Tempers flaring and voices rising, one wouldn't expect that these five people once shared a common goal. Art stood apart from the rest, “So your master plan of exacting revenge for an orphan is to create another one!?” “We don't even know who that kid belongs to!” Jane responded. “Well he belongs to somebody around here!”Art was exhausted. The long, hard trek to catch up to these people coupled with a botched surprise attack and a clash of ideologies drained him of any desire to fight, not that he had much of a desire to begin with. “We don't know who's on who's side, we don't know if any of these people even deserve to get killed. You and Dahvin are so blinded by seeking revenge from anyone and everyone that neither of you are thinking straight.” Jane spoke with precise anger, “I have been though so much shit in my life. All of us have. I don't know about you, but I'm not taking it anymore. If I can make things better, even if it means killing more people than I'd like to, then so be it.” She turned away from Art. “I don't care how you feel, but I'm not done here.” Art started walking down the rubble pile, “You're just going to get yourself killed.” “At least I won't die running away.” “You're going to get Kate killed.” That shut her up.
Kate. Art felt a pain of regret when he thought about her. He already missed her, her kind heart, her company, her smile. Jane, Dahvin, and Diane could all fend for themselves, but Kate needed a little more help, or at least she thought she did. Art blamed Jane for Kate's problems. Jane liked to protect her, even shelter her, and Art wondered exactly how much her protectiveness helped Kate versus how much it hurt her. Kate was also the only other one in the group who had doubts about this vengeance quest. Sure she agreed with it at first, but once the bullets started flying, she had a change of heart. Your true feelings always tend to come out when once your life is on the line. Art wondered if Kate was alright, if she was even still alive. He hoped so.
In the distance, Art could hear Diane screaming at him. He stole her gun when she tried to shoot the boy and now carried it with him towards his bike. Dahvin followed closely behind, and Jane behind him with Kate in tow. As Art reached his bike, Dahvin grabbed Art by the shoulder, “Give me her gun, now.” he said, in a firm voice that meant business. Art looked up and saw that the boy was no longer in sight. He threw the gun at Dahvin and it hit him in the chest. “Take it.” said Art, “Go exact someone else's vengeance as your own.” Dahvin looked simultaneously stunned and furious, but Diane kept yelling for her gun so he turned around and headed to return it. As Dahvin climbed back up the rubble pile, Jane walked up to Art pulling Kate by her shirt collar as if she were a dog. Art had enough at this point. He glared at Jane, “Why don't you let her make her own goddamned choices? She's a grown woman, she doesn't need a fucking trainer.” Jane stood up to Art and the two stared at each other, unblinking. “She's not always 'with it' and sometimes she needs someone to look after her. Right now, she needs me, and I'm here for her.” Art looked over at Kate, she was crouched and tapping her hands together. Art noticed these fits before, but this was by far the worst one yet. He spoke to her, “You don't need to stay here, I know you don't want fight as much as I do, and I'll take you somewhere safe. Somewhere where we don't have to run and fight and kill. Somewhere we can just, live.” But Kate didn't respond. She just tapped and stared and rocked back and forth. Jane looked at Art as if she just won something. “You already left us once, why should she trust you now?” She said. “You can run if you want, but I'm done running.” She turned and grabbed Kate's hand. “We're done running.” Art mounted his bike and turned it away from the group. Before he left he looked over his shoulder and said, “Vengeance doesn't solve anything, it just gets you killed.” and pedaled off.
Art snapped back to reality. It was beginning to get dark. The setting sun cast long shadows across the ruins of the Wasteland. He bent over, picked up his bike, and sat upon it. Art didn't know this area too well, which parts were safe, which were dangerous, and what the hell was even out here, but he did know the direction he came from. He turned his bike in that direction and started to pedal.
Art stood alone in the Wasteland. Lost in thought and surrounded by the remnants of a long dead civilization, he was, for the first time in a long, long while, oblivious to the world around him.
The skirmish didn't go as planned, but do they ever? Planning only goes so far, adaptation is a soldier's true strength. Only this time, Art couldn't adapt. A missed shot, a heated argument, unclear objectives, Art's dealt with all of these before, but this time he realized he had an option he never had before, he realized he could leave.
The group stood in shambles. Tempers flaring and voices rising, one wouldn't expect that these five people once shared a common goal. Art stood apart from the rest, “So your master plan of exacting revenge for an orphan is to create another one!?”
“We don't even know who that kid belongs to!” Jane responded.
“Well he belongs to somebody around here!”Art was exhausted. The long, hard trek to catch up to these people coupled with a botched surprise attack and a clash of ideologies drained him of any desire to fight, not that he had much of a desire to begin with. “We don't know who's on who's side, we don't know if any of these people even deserve to get killed. You and Dahvin are so blinded by seeking revenge from anyone and everyone that neither of you are thinking straight.”
Jane spoke with precise anger, “I have been though so much shit in my life. All of us have. I don't know about you, but I'm not taking it anymore. If I can make things better, even if it means killing more people than I'd like to, then so be it.” She turned away from Art. “I don't care how you feel, but I'm not done here.”
Art started walking down the rubble pile, “You're just going to get yourself killed.”
“At least I won't die running away.”
“You're going to get Kate killed.” That shut her up.
Kate. Art felt a pain of regret when he thought about her. He already missed her, her kind heart, her company, her smile. Jane, Dahvin, and Diane could all fend for themselves, but Kate needed a little more help, or at least she thought she did. Art blamed Jane for Kate's problems. Jane liked to protect her, even shelter her, and Art wondered exactly how much her protectiveness helped Kate versus how much it hurt her.
Kate was also the only other one in the group who had doubts about this vengeance quest. Sure she agreed with it at first, but once the bullets started flying, she had a change of heart. Your true feelings always tend to come out when once your life is on the line. Art wondered if Kate was alright, if she was even still alive. He hoped so.
In the distance, Art could hear Diane screaming at him. He stole her gun when she tried to shoot the boy and now carried it with him towards his bike. Dahvin followed closely behind, and Jane behind him with Kate in tow.
As Art reached his bike, Dahvin grabbed Art by the shoulder, “Give me her gun, now.” he said, in a firm voice that meant business. Art looked up and saw that the boy was no longer in sight. He threw the gun at Dahvin and it hit him in the chest. “Take it.” said Art, “Go exact someone else's vengeance as your own.” Dahvin looked simultaneously stunned and furious, but Diane kept yelling for her gun so he turned around and headed to return it.
As Dahvin climbed back up the rubble pile, Jane walked up to Art pulling Kate by her shirt collar as if she were a dog. Art had enough at this point. He glared at Jane, “Why don't you let her make her own goddamned choices? She's a grown woman, she doesn't need a fucking trainer.”
Jane stood up to Art and the two stared at each other, unblinking. “She's not always 'with it' and sometimes she needs someone to look after her. Right now, she needs me, and I'm here for her.”
Art looked over at Kate, she was crouched and tapping her hands together. Art noticed these fits before, but this was by far the worst one yet. He spoke to her, “You don't need to stay here, I know you don't want fight as much as I do, and I'll take you somewhere safe. Somewhere where we don't have to run and fight and kill. Somewhere we can just, live.” But Kate didn't respond. She just tapped and stared and rocked back and forth.
Jane looked at Art as if she just won something. “You already left us once, why should she trust you now?” She said. “You can run if you want, but I'm done running.” She turned and grabbed Kate's hand. “We're done running.”
Art mounted his bike and turned it away from the group. Before he left he looked over his shoulder and said, “Vengeance doesn't solve anything, it just gets you killed.” and pedaled off.
Art snapped back to reality. It was beginning to get dark. The setting sun cast long shadows across the ruins of the Wasteland. He bent over, picked up his bike, and sat upon it. Art didn't know this area too well, which parts were safe, which were dangerous, and what the hell was even out here, but he did know the direction he came from. He turned his bike in that direction and started to pedal.